I like to think that the best of games are ones who places us the players as that specific game world's "Divine Spirit": we guide events as it unfolds through the hands of a chosen individual(s), and leave the future to them once they don't need us anymore. And thus we move on to a different world, repeating the cycle.

It's more poignant than the harsh reality of "You just don't have friends", really. XD

The height of this experience for me was Shadow of the Colossus. When you're hanging on to Avion as he soars and "A Despair-filled Farewell" is playing, it's impossible not to feel like an epic hero on a magical quest for the ultimate goal. Love.

Well, I'm not fat and am good at sports, so I avoid sports games, because they're stupid. I play video games just because it's cool to run across the bridge, throw the dragon into the lava, knowing that this time, this time, I will have saved the princess...only to get that damn mushroom again telling me "Thank you, Mario. But our princess is in another castle."

That's good. I think for me it's always the same. You start the game and say, "ah this looks fun." Then I get into the game and I say, "I won't be defeated by this game. I have a (although pitiful) reputation to uphold." Then for the five seconds of false achievement and feeling of advanced skill and intelligence.

The worst part of all is that during the entire video I kept thinking, "hey, what game is he playing?"

What I love about this is that it has the perfect mix of feelings of awesomeness, shame, glee, and disappointment that video game achievements tend to carry with them. I also love how it kind parallels the player and the character as aimless wanderers, as well.